


Not Today

by a_space_pony



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Gen, Oneshot, Penetration, laser penetration that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:38:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_space_pony/pseuds/a_space_pony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Would you care?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Today

Morty ran, following Rick’s lead. They ran _together,_ almost side-by-side, but not quite, since Rick always seemed to be ahead in mind and body. Morty hastily dropped the thought in favor of screaming at the top of his lungs as a laser just barely flew past him, missing Rick’s portal gun by even less of a margin.

  
“Run faster, M-Morty!” Rick shouted over the sounds of guns firing and buildings burning down. “I have a plan!” He took a risky glance over his shoulder to briefly look at Morty—and, in addition, his unmoving body on the ground.

  
“Screw the plan!" he said quickly, stopping in his tracks. "Morty!" A look around told him that there was no time for this, he couldn’t wait for this stupid sack of—of _Morty_ to get up. But he told himself that there was always time for Morty, always just enough time to save Morty.

  
“Get up or I-I-I’ll kill your family, Morty!” Rick threatened, but the words weren’t nearly harsh enough. “I’ll m-make Summer into a disgusting cake with too much frosting and force J-Jerry to eat her! I’ll throw Jenny or Jennica or whatever her name was into space!” Not _enough._ Rick couldn’t go back to pick him up, the aliens were approaching from there! If he took a step towards Morty, they’d see him in their _very_ nearsighted eyes and who knew what would happen then?

  
Morty could hear Rick, so much more clearly than everything else. It was an acquired skill to tune into the old man’s voice whenever something unbelievably horrible was happening, whenever Morty started to doubt himself and wonder if they would make it out alive. Or if maybe only Rick would make it out alive, and get a replacement Morty… no one would notice, would they?  
No one would notice.

  
So what was really in Morty’s way? What was stopping him from just lying on the ground forever—or for as long as he was alive anyway? Rick definitely wasn’t. Rick wasn’t even coming back for him. He was just standing there with that near-constant green drool of something on his chin, and his furrowed monobrow that was drenched in cold sweat, and the flicker of concern in his eyes, and his fumbling hands reaching out to _someone important to him..._

  
Morty could just close his eyes and fall asleep, really. Nothing— _no one_ —was stopping him from doing that. The ground wasn’t the most comfortable of places to rest, but it was better than sleeping in the same house with that mad scientist, that sociopath, that-that _dumb_ genius! Morty clenched his fists and held back something rising in his throat. Vomit? Tears? He wasn't focusing on it too much, so it didn't matter anyway.

  
Another laser flew by Morty, but this time _it didn’t._ He slowly looked down at the cleanly cut yet bloody hole in his chest. A pitifully weak laugh escaped his lips as the gruesome sight registered in his mind, because it was so _familiar_ to him in a way he couldn’t place. Maybe he’d died like this before, infinite other times, in infinite other realities, with infinite other uncaring Ricks, with infinite doubts and worries and regrets haunting him in his last moments.

  
And maybe, just maybe, this reality could be— _would_ be—different. Not because of luck or chance, but because of choice.  
“Morty, you piece of—” Rick let all thoughts of being shot by the admittedly very dangerous aliens fall into the recesses of his mind and ran to Morty, muttering, “why didn’t you just get up?”  
“Would you care?”

  
“W-w-what?” Rick helplessly grabbed at pockets on his labcoat, searching desperately—and appearing completely calm—for something to fix up his grandson. His hands loyally returned with a small bottle of something slushy and dull, which he quickly dumped onto the gaping wound. “Would I c-care? What are you talking about, Morty? Just shut up and—”  
“I-If I died?” Morty continued, staring up at his grandfather as the skin around his injury sowed itself back together. Rick frowned, deciding to let the interruption slide as he shot his portal gun and shoved both him and Morty through.

  
“I’m not caring today, Morty.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really sure how to write rick or morty yet. does anyone know how to do rick's burps (or whatever they are)? i know that he does them randomly most of the time but ehhhhh i'll figure it out i guess  
> leave a comment maybe? (i mean i get really sweaty and spooked reading people's thoughts on my writing but COMMENTS IMPROVE WRITING (AND IN RETURN READING))


End file.
